


we'll be looking for sunlight (or the headlights)

by Kyoshu_Koi



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, also keith is an idiot and so is lance - Freeform, i'm (not) sorry, it's basically a walking meme, shiro also has a service dog - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-07 18:31:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8811583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyoshu_Koi/pseuds/Kyoshu_Koi
Summary: People always say they fell in love with their best friend, but Keith is pretty sure they weren't being literal about it. ...Or the au where Keith really, really likes Lance, but is too chicken to really do anything about it..





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays Robin!! Hope you like the gift!

The bus was shit, total, utter shit.

Keith hated it more than he hated the actual cereal in Lucky Charms, and that stuff was shit, too, really. To be honest, the yellow, over glorified car _was_ free, and Shiro did have the option of driving him, but Shiro was too kind for his own good, and, if he did drive, he’d probably be late to class.

He squeezed his eyes shut, mind drifting back to the pair of earbuds forgotten on the kitchen table. Of all the days he couldn’t listen to his music, it had to be the one where he was forced to take the kiddy version of public transit.

The bus jerked to a stop, the doors squeaking open to let a random gaggle of kids in.

A brittle breeze flooded through the opening, winding its way past all the seats and up to Keith’s nose. It stung, but cold air was nothing compared to humidity, and Keith would take winter over summer any day of the week.

He winced as a girl shimmied next to him, slamming her bag into his shoulder. She squealed, yanking out an earbud and chatting with a friend who’d yet to even waken up. She was mocking him, Keith decided, she was so, so, _so_ mocking him.

The bus doors shut, the world once again rolling along at a snail’s pace. Keith watched as a grandma power-walked past, waving excitedly at the kids as she went along her merry way. Keith signed and leaned his head against the window, only for his skull to be slammed against it as the bus decided to suddenly pick up speed as it turned the corner.

What the literal frick-frack-snickity-snack?

Other kids voiced their protests, such as seen by the sudden outburst of profanity and memes spewing from the adolescents’ mouths, but Keith was contempt with simply glaring at the back of the drives head, thoughts of ‘death by seatbelt’ racing through his head.

He managed to lift an arm past the bag he’d crammed onto his lap, massaging at the sore skin on his head. It felt like maybe it’d bruise. He could complain to the nurses about it, maybe go home. Then again, he could break an arm and all they’d do it give him a granola bar and slap a Band-Aid on his ‘boo-boo.

Keith sighed and went back to brooding.

Time ticked by as a few more stops were covered. More and more kids piled in, some seats filling up to four people while a few random boys stretched out onto the worn pleather, happy to have room all to themselves.

Eventually the bus sputtered into the school parking lot, dropping the kids off as far from the doors as possible before tearing off. Keith was sixty percent sure that it left smoke trail behind.

He sniffed at the air. Okay, make that seventy.

He started off towards the door, careful to actually pick up his feet so he looked less like a zombie and more like a tired, overworked teen. A teen so tired, in fact, that he didn’t notice a giant ball of pure sunshine barreling towards him.

“Kkkkeeeeiiiiiitttttthhhhhh!”

The said boy turned around just in time to be scooped up by a hyperactive Hunk and twirled around roughly, oh, let’s say, a bajillion times, before he was finally set down.

Keith rocked back on his heels, almost losing his balance, and shook the sleep out of his eyes. What’d just happened again? He peered at Hunk, “Wha…?” Hunk just giggled and bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. The gears in Keith’s brain rattled as they tried to turn. It took a few hard yanks on the good ol’ Focus LeverTM before they finally managed to start working again, more than a little bit of rust flaking off the ends as they got going.

He peered around Hunk and raised an eyebrow at a sagging Lance. “Coffee?” Keith asked.

Lance sent him a pained smile. “And Redbull,” he added, his voice cracking a bit near the end.

Keith winced. “Yikes.”

Lance glanced at Hunk, who was currently trying to count the clouds. “It’s the only thing that’s keeping him alive,” he noted.

“How’s Pidge?”

“Zombified.”

Keith nodded. That didn’t really make sense, but he was working with Lance, not to mention it was morning; he’d just have to deal. “How’re you?” he tried.

“Just dead in general,” Lance grumbled. His skin was just as clear and smooth as ever, which kind of didn’t help with the whole dark circles thing going on. The shadows under his eyes seem to go on forever; really, it was almost like looking at another eye socket. He still looked good though.

Then again, Keith always thought Lance looked good.

Lance started shuffling past Keith. The said boy followed him, Hunk skipping behind them while humming his own rendition of ‘Party in the U.S.A.’ “This is a ghost,” he mumbled, “You’re talking to a ghost right now, Keith.”

“Well then, ghost, how’s hell?”

“Magnificent,” Lance drawled, “Feels like a hot tub without the tub.”

“So just hot?”

“Keith?”

He grinned. “Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

* * *

First hour was torture.

Keith was still only functioning with a fourth of his brain and Pidge, who he sat next to, was a drooling mess. They sat at their desk, staring at the work in front of them like it was blank.

Which it kind of was, if you counted the empty spaces where Pidge’s answers were supposed to be.

Anyways, Algebra was a pain and Pidge wasn’t _working_ until Keith managed to buy a kid’s coffee off them – it only took two bucks – and waved the caffeinated drink under their nose.

They shot awake, snatching up the cup and downing it in one go like the heathen they were. The sight itself was downright comical, but Keith really preferred his family jewels where they currently were, so he didn’t risking making a comment. Pidge gasped as they finally came up for air, having not stopped until the last drop of caffeine was gone.

“What’d I miss?” they asked, eyes wide.

“From what I’ve seen?” Keith drawled, “Six am to now.”

A few seconds passed as they worked out the meaning of Keith’s ever present snark. “Five am,” they finally corrected, “And thanks, you’re _such_ a big help.”

“It was review,” Keith sighed out, “Basic stuff, y= mx + b and all that shit.” He glanced up. “Annnnnnnd the bell’s ringing … now.”

Pidge yelped and shoved their papers into the abyss that was their bag as a loud beeeppppppp sounded through the classroom. Well, that was it. Sayonara, worksheets. It really wasn’t that nice knowing you…

Pidge slung their backpack over their shoulders, nearly buckling under the weight, then started for the door.

“You look just like a freshie,” Keith mumbled absentmindedly. Pidge glared, shifting under the mass that was their bag. “I mean, you’re their age so that helps but your bag is huge and you’re rushing to class …”

“You’re rambling,” Pidge said.

“I noticed,” Keith replied, “Forgot my meds.”

“Which?”

“Both.”

“Shiro’s gonna kill you.”

“He’s gonna have to get in line.”

“Touché.”

* * *

Keith first met Pidge through Hunk, who he met through Lance, who he met through a school program made for kids who had ‘social problems.’ Basically, they had classes where they learned to hide their feelings so no one ever knew if they were upset. Ever.

A wonderful program really.

It was ‘like they were getting trained to be spies, if espionage was making sure no one could ever tell if you were feeling sad.’ At least, that’s what Lance had said he first time Keith had met him – to be honest, Keith had kinda agreed with him, not like he voiced it or anything.

They didn’t really get along for a while, not with the whole clashing personalities and all, but sixth grade passed, then so did seventh, then so did eighth and suddenly they were out of a program that isolated them from everyone else and all they had was each other.

Well, Keith had Shiro, but Shiro had was a senior then, not to mention he graduated a semester early, heading straight for the Air Force. Basically, Keith really just had Lance.

But Lance had Hunk, a neighbor who was homeschooled until freshman year. So, they ended up hanging out. Which, actually wasn’t as bad as Keith had originally thought it’d be. Lance didn’t ditch him for Hunk, instead, Hunk joined them and they became a little trio that was seen everywhere together.

Keith would skip study hall to sit by the door next to Hunk’s oven in Home Ec and they’re talk until the bell rang. Hunk’s group mates never ratted him out, either, though that probably had to do with Hunk giving them his portion of the food so they’d stay quiet.

A bit after that Lance would leave his lunch hour all together to slip into Keith’s biology class. The teacher didn’t really care, since Lance would just take the worksheets and do them, all while chatting with Keith at an acceptable volume.

Actually, it just was an acceptable volume for Lance, Keith and pretty much the entire class thought he was shouting but, hey, what’s a guy to do?

Anyways, then came along sophomore year, and Hunk dragged a teeny little tot into Keith and Lance’s shared lunch hour – which Keith may or may not have rigged with a little (*cough*lot*cough*) begging from his counselor.

Teeny tot turned out to be Pidge, who turned out to be an old friend of Hunk’s from his homeschooling days, and the rest was history.

Kinda.

There was still Shiro, who’d tried adopting all three of Keith’s friends the first day he brought them home (“Shiro, they have families. They’re not orphans.” “But … but … hey, aren’t you Matt’s sister?”). Of course, it didn’t work out, but Shiro still made them all brownies every other week, and it wasn’t like any of them were complaining.

(“It’s like a pot brownie, just without the pot.”  
“You’ve never touched a piece of marijuana in your life, Lance.”  
“Shush, Pidge, let me eat in bliss.”)

There was also Allura, a gym teacher turned make-shift social worker that may or may not let them eat in her office. But only if they brought her a cookie. Each.

Coran, one of the librarians, also joined in on their little lunch outings, if one considered a walk to the health office’s an outing. He normally just sat there, having already ate, and made bad puns that only Lance, and an occasionally sleep deprived Allura, found funny.

That was about it. Their little ragtag quartet with its two supervisors and veteran dad.

Which brought them to where they all stood, er, sat, now.

Hunk let out a savage squeal into his palms, “Why?” he groaned, “Why’d you let me drink that?”

“Because it woke you up,” Lance said. Within the four hours since Keith’d last seen him, he’d somehow found some concealer – probably swiped it off one of the girls in gym – and had managed to cover up his under eye bags enough to look somewhat alive. “Duh.”

“Don’t you ‘duh’ me!” Hunk managed, the end of his sentence flopping down the back of his throat like a drunken slur, “You … you … you duh!”

“Oh dear,” Allura huffed.

“Just give him some more coffee,” Pidge muttered, blank eyes staring down at their phone. “It’ll boost him up again.”

Allura snorted. “He’s gonna crash harder than Sally in the volleyball unit,” she muttered, before shoving another chunk of lettuce in her mouth.

“How can you even eat that?” Keith grumbled.

“Oh this? It’s drenched in ranch and blue cheese.”

“Ah.”

“You know that’s bad for you, right?” Lance asked, “All that ...” he wrinkled his nose and Keith made a note of how cute it made him look, “…stuff.” 

Keith blew a breath of amused air out his nose. Lance swatted at his shoulder.

“Do I look like I care?” Allura asked, rubbing a bit of stray ranch off her chin. It was one of the most unappealing things Keith could ever imagine someone doing, but she still somehow looked like some kind of alien lion goddess or whatever. It was amazing, really.

“You’re a health teacher,” Pidge deadpanned.

Hunk moaned in agreement. Or maybe he was just in pain…

“And I could still bench press you all with one arm tied behind my back,” she stated simply. Keith glanced over to Lance, who mouthed a quick ‘Is that how that exercise even works????’ “Besides,” Allura continued, “It’s relatively calorie free.”

“Relatively?” Lance whispered in doubt. Keith kicked him in the shin and he yelped.

Pidge hummed. “So the calorie free thing, is that why you got,” they pointed disgustedly at the mass of vegetables, “ _it_?”

“Nah,” Allura grinned, “It was cheap.” 

Keith snorted. Lance threw his head back and laughed like a deranged horse. Of course, he still looked picture perfect. Ugh. Why was it always the insane ones that were pretty? Why?

Hunk sat up straight in his chair, suddenly alert. “I give up. Give me the caffeine.”

“Hunk no,” Allura gasped.

“Hunk yes,” Hunk replied.

Pidge grinned their gremlin grin. “’Each patch is the equivalent of twelve cups of coffee,’” they cackled, “’you can stay awake for days with no side effects.’”

“Meet the Robinsons?” Keith asked, “Really?”

“Awesome movie,” Lance noted.

“Terrible movie,” Keith shot back.

Lance gasped. “That’s it! This means war!” He whirled around, brandishing a finger at one of Allura’s many stuffed lions, the mascot of her college. “Pidge,” Lance growled “grab the sacrifice.”

 “Wait, no!” Allura shot to her feet, “No sacrifices!”

“Here we go,” Hunk moaned, resting his head in his hands as he watched to chaos unfold.

“Pidge,” Allura chastised, her tone hushed as if she was speaking to a young child, “Pidge, there will be no sacrifices. You hear me? No sacrifices! You are better than this! Resist the temptation, resist the dark side!”

“But,” Lance protested, “the dark side has cookies. So – Pidge grab the sacrifice!”

Pidge shrugged in a ‘what do you expect me to do’ manner and grabbed for a chair, climbing on up it attempt to reach for a random lion. 

Allura shoved past Lance and scooped up all the lions from the top shelf, hugging them to her chest and glaring daggers at Pidge. “There. Will. Be. NO SACRIFICIES!!!” She growled, voice dangerously close to murder.

Lance backed up a little more than a bit, eager to get away from the raging madness that was Allura.

“Understand?” she asked.

Lance frowned, but nodded. “Okay. Plan B.” He snatched up the plastic fork Allura had been using and jabbed it in Keith’s general direction. The ranch soaked lettuce on the end flopped pitifully. “’Hello,’” Lance rasped.

Hunk groaned, “Not this again.”

“’My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father…’”

Lance grinned, dropping into a lunge – Pidge shouted, pointing Will Smith style to Lance and falling back onto the ground like a dying goose – before shoving the fork, complete with wimpy lettuce, in front of Keith’s face.

Keith looked unimpressed.

“'Prepare to die,’” Lance finished.

Coran chose that exact moment to walk through the door. He took in the scene around him - Hunk half dead in his chair, Allura grasping onto five stuffed lions at once, Lance threatening Keith with plastic cutlery.

“I really don’t want to know,” Coran sighed, “Do I?”

* * *

 The day came to a dry, uneventful close, with classes ending a half hour early due to an unexpected sodium-in-water experiment gone wrong.

The buses rolled in early, and Lance managed to squeeze onto Keith’s with him. He wasn’t really supposed to, but he did anyway. Not to mention the bus driver didn’t really care. It took fifteen minutes to get home when you added in the gazillion red lights and other stop signs – none of which the driver really paid attention to.

The bus rolled along like a bloated sea lion, dropping stop after stop until it was finally Keith’s turned to leave. He trudged off the steps, grumbling a quiet thank you as he stepped out onto the worn blacktop of the street.

A car whizzed by, ruffling Keith’s hair and stirring the crispy leaves lining the road into a frenzy.

“Illegal!” Lance shouted, flipping the busted Honda and its teenage owner off. The bus driver gave him a thumbs up through the grimy windshield before bumbling off down the street. Lance laughedat that and headed for the sidewalk.

“Look before you cross,” Keith mumbled, following behind without even looking himself. Hypocritical, really. But he didn’t give a fuck at this point.Keith could practically feel Lance rolling his eyes.

“Got it, dad,” the taller boy – only by a few inches, not like that mattered to Lance, though – grumbled.

“I am not your father,” Keith growled, pulling up beside Lance and bumping him lightly with his shoulder. Lance grinned and swung the edge of his hip around, knocking it into Keith’s side. The said boy stumbled into the grass, glaring hard.

“Then stop acting like it,” Lance sang.

Keith kicked leaves at him in response, and all Lance did was laugh. Keith fought down a smile, instead forcing himself to scowl. Lance just laughed harder. “Oh!” he said, “Did I tell you about Patricia Patel?” Keith shook his head. “Oh boy, you’re gonna love this, that girl’s a real tool. So, it’s second hour Physics, right, you know, the course I know like the back of my hand-”

Keith snorted.

“Shut up!” Lance cried, “Anyways, so we have to pair up with someone from the other side of the room, cause the teacher’s a dick. So, I pair up with Sally, cause Sally’s funny. You know Sally, right, the blonde one that came out last month?”

“Lance,” Keith sighed, “Get to the point.”

“Right. So, Patricia’s stuck sitting behind us, ‘cause she wanted to pair up with Thomas the fuckboi, which was a real pain but-”

“Your point?”

“Right, okay, main plot time.” Lance gave a sheepish grin and continued on with his story. He was always like this, rambling on and on and on about his stories. Keith didn’t mind, though, they were fun and lively and, honestly, they made Keith’s day.

“So, Patricia’s all like ‘omg, do you see Sally’s hair’ and all this crap about it, which is mean, cause Sally’s in swim and it’s a knotted mess sitting on her head but it’s not like she can even do anything about it, like, she’s in swim, give her a break.”

Keith nodded, as if he knew what the hell any of that even meant.

“So, Patricia kept saying these bitchy things for five straight minutes, I’m not even joking, like it’s a straight on spew of garbage that just keeps going on and on and on. And now, Sally’s trying to become one with the floor. So then I just turned around and said ‘Gurl, you need to sto- ‘” Lance dropped his backpack suddenly, Keith nearly tripping over it before he noticed it’s presence.

“What the hell?” he grumbled.

“Leaves…” Lance uttered, staring wide eyed at the pile of crispy, crunchy, once alive plants laying in a perfect pile on the ground.

“Lance,” Keith stared, realization dawning on him. Aw, shit. “Lance, no-!”

“Cowabunga, dude!” Lance screamed, before he promptly threw himself into the pile like a fucking twelve-year-old.

“Come on!” Keith snapped, stepping away from the sudden spray of dead foliage. Lance popped his head out of the pile and grinned. “Oh no. No. No no no don’t even try-” Lance grabbed hold of Keith’s ankle and tugged him down, backpack and all.

Keith fell with a screech, leaves flying everywhere.

Ugh. Great.

He came up from the pile for air, gasping and reaching around blindly for Lance because there was a fucking leaf covering his left eye. A cackle sounded from the same direction, and Keith whirled on Lance, shoving his backpack off and tackling the boy to the ground. “You jerk!” Keith shouted, even though he was laughing. Lance snorted from under him, wiggling around in attempt to get out.

“Uncle, uncle!” he giggled. “I call uncle.”

“No mercy!” Keith snapped, putting more of his weight onto Lance in hopes of suffocating the stupid ass that was his victim.

Lance went quiet for a bit, then his grin returned full force, “Well, if you wanna do this kinda thing, then by all means, go ahea-”

“Get a room!” Mrs. Yun shouted from her second story window, half of her old, wrinkled body spilling off the window sill and out in the open air, “Christ, Keith, Shiro raised you better than this!”

Keith shot off Lance, face bleeding red.

“Hey Mrs. Yun,” Lance called, sitting up, “How’re you?”

“Good,” she said, “Now that I know Keith here is finally getting some.”

Keith’s brain practically shut down as Lance dissolved into a fit of laughter, rolling around on the ground in what was once a pile of leaves. When he finally found his senses, Keith scooped up his bag and grabbed lance, dragging him towards his house.

Lance scrambled to grab his backpack. “Nice seeing you again, Mrs. Yun!” he shouted back at the old woman.

“Use protection!” she simply screamed.

Keith died for the third time that day. “Oh god,” he muttered, “that was…”

“Hilarious,” Lance suggested, “Man, she’s got an imagination on her.”

Kith went quiet, thinking back to Lance’s cocky smile. “Yeah,” he admitted, forcing himself to look Lance in the eye, “she does.”

Lance was the first to break eye contact, a rarity for him. They walked the rest of the way to Keith’s house in silence. The leaves crunched under their feet as they walked and skittered down the curbs, making sudden scarping noises that had the ever-jumpy Lance jolting ever few seconds. (“Seriously? It’s a leaf.” “It’s trying to kill me, I swear!”).

They made it to Keith’s house in record time, seeing as Keith lived in the cul-de-sac at the end of the street, not to mention Lance tended to be a slow walker. Sadly, it took at least another five minutes for Keith to just find his keys.

“You sure you brought them?” Lance asked.

“Yes, Lance,” Keith huffed, yanking a folder of his bag and setting it on the ground.

Lance squawked and picked it up, dusting some imaginary dirt off the top. “You sure, dude?”

“Call me dude again and I will castrate you.”

“Kinky.”

Keith ground his teeth together and mouthed a simple ‘why’ before snapping back his reply of “Shut it!”

A few minutes passed and Keith finally just gave up on finding his key. He grabbed one of the rocking chairs, sliding it under the porch light. Lance yelped as Keith stepped up onto it, nearly killing himself as he reached into the light and grabbed a cobweb covered key.

“Three years,” Lance muttered in shock as Keith got down and put the chair back, “Three years, minus middle school, and I never knew that _that_ -” he pointed at the key, “-was there.”

Keith raised an eyebrow, “Where’d you think it was?” he asked.

Lance threw up his arms. “Under the ‘welcome’ mat, in a potted plant, on top of the doorframe; I don’t know, somewhere normal.”

Keith’s lips curled upwards. “Shiro says normal is predictable.”

“Yeah, well Shiro’s insane.”

Keith rolled his eyed and opened the front door, only to be forced down onto his knees. He laughed, reeling back from a sudden attack of licks from a vest-less Blacky. “Hey girl,” he rasped, “How’re you?” She jumped on her back legs, paws on his shoulders, neck stretched up far to swipe her tongue across the entirety of Keith’s face.

"Okay girl," he managed after a few more aggressive kisses, "Down."

The dog sat back, tail wagging to and fro like a machine.

"Blacky's here?" Lance asked from behind Keith, simultaneously hopping on one foot and yanking his shoes off, voice hitching slightly as Keith raised his shirt to wipe the drool from his face.

Keith paid no mind to it. "Shiro," he called, "you home?"

Low and behold, Shiro popped his head out from inside the kitchen. Lance jumped at the sight of him, holding a hand to his heart in shock. "Yeah," Shiro said, "Criminology was canceled, professor's sick. Hello, Lance. Sorry to startle you. How've you been?”

Lance grinned, "Good. It's great to see you, man. What's it been? Four months? And you didn’t startle me."

"Six,” Shiro corrected with a smile, “And that’s a lie."

Lance whistled. "Yikes. College sounds bad. And no it's not."

Shrio rolled his eyes, answering the first part of the question. "It’s okay. Besides, most of the time I’m off with my girlfriend.”

Lance waggled his eyebrows and Keith shoved his shoulder. “Speaking of her, when are you gonna bring her home?” Lance asked.

“So Keith can scare her off?” Shiro asked, “No thanks.”

“Natural selection,” Keith stated simply, “May the best win.”

Shiro sighed and shook his head. “Come _on_ , Keith.”

“Yeah,” Lance mocked, “Come on, Keith.”

“Didn’t you do the same thing for Sofia’s girlfriend?” Keith noticed.

“...No comment.”

Shiro rolled his eyes. “Little brothers.”

“Hey!” Lance protested, “I’m a middle child.”

“Still a little brother,” Shiro said, “Anyways, I have to be back to," he gestured to the kitchen behind him, as if that was enough explanation, "or else we won't be eating till nine."

"Got it," Keith said, "Me and Lance’ll just be in my room.”

Shiro nodded, doing a little once over of Lance as his head moved down then back up. "Okay .... but keep the door open,"

Keith's face bled scarlet. "W-Wha-?"

But Shiro was already back in the kitchen, probably stirring whatever the fuck he had on the stove. By the time Keith managed to gain control of his ridiculous blush, Lance had already made it halfway up the stairs.

"Come on!" He called. Keith nodded and followed him up the stairs.

Homework was a pain in the ass, Keith noted, staring down at his Algebra worksheets. He’d gone a few days ahead in the packet, just to get it over and done with, but there was new material he hadn’t learned yet and he could practically feel the migraine coming along.

“Need some help?” Lance asked, looking up from his physics project.

“Yeah,” Keith admitted after a few seconds, “I don’t know what this is.”

Lance skootched over, dipping his head down to read. “I don’t think we’ve learned this yet, but maybe you could try….” he trailed off, scribbling a few things down. “That.”

Keith blanched at his paper. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered in realization.

“It’s probably wrong, though,” Lance chuckled.

“It’s probably right,” Keith corrected, “It’s math. You’re awesome at math.”

“Well, you’re awesome at words.” Keith just looked at him. “Okay, written ones.” Keith snorted. “Speaking of words, when you’re done could you look this over?” He shoved a paper over to Keith. “Maybe make some notes? My English grade is slipping and you’re good at analysis.”

“Okay,” Keith said. He shoved it in his homework folder, “I’ll have it by lunch tomorrow.”

“Thanks dude,” Lance grinned, giving him a quick hug, “love ya.”

Keith choked on his spit.

“Hey now!” Shiro shouted up, “Don’t forget I have superhuman hearing!” Oh god, could this get any worse? “No tricks, Lance, you’re not the same fifteen-year-old I can blindly trust!” Yes, actually, yes it could.

“Shiro!” Keith called down, face burning. “It’s not-”

Lance cut him off, “Does that mean I have to start calling you Mr. Shirogane or something?” he yelled down, “Cause that’s too long and I’d like to stick with Shiro, please.” The was a pause, “Also, permission for a date?”

“What?!” Shiro screamed.

“What?” Keith yelped.

“What?” Lance asked with a shrug, grinning that perfect little grin, “We could go now, there’s the McDonald’s a fifteen-minute walk from here, I could buy you a McDouble and we could make out in the bathroom.” His eyebrows rose up and down in an attempt to look suave, but it seemed more like a little girl trying to twerk than a suggestive gesture.

Oh. Oh. He was joking again.

The red in Keith’s face changed from simple embarrassment to frustration, not like Lance could notice.

Shiro hadn’t responded for a bit, so Lance shouted back down “I was kidding, dude, Keith’s still as pure as he pretends to be, jeez.”

“I...,” Shiro sounded like he was short circuiting, “…. Blacky, come here girl, daddy needs some cuddles.”

Keith wheezed. “You broke my brother.” The implied ‘and me’ stayed silent.

Lance grinned, shrugging. “Oops.” Keith seriously contemplated throttling him. Lance grinned that dangerous grin of his, the one that entailed something stupid but memorable. “What’cha say we skip all this,” he gestured - with his middle finger, to boot - at their half-finished homework, “and play some Mario Kart?”

Keith looked down at his homework, then back up at Lance. Grades or social time? Grades or bragging rights? Grades or secretly watching your crush?

...Ah, fuck it.

* * *

 Lance left just before dinner when Sofia pulled up in a half-dead Jeep and honked the horn loud enough to wake Mrs. Yun down the street.

She waved to Keith, tossed a bag of Mr. Sanchez’s famous cookies to Shiro as ‘payment for babysitting’, then tore down the street fast so fast she practically bent the light posts lining the road. Always eventful with the McClain-Sanchez household, really.

Shiro watched for a few seconds as Sofia burned the blacktop off their street’s intersection before turning to Keith. “I love him,” he said, “I really do, but he’s the biggest tease ever.”

“You have no idea,” Keith sighed.

“You know,” Shiro hummed, “Pining is a good look on you.”

“Shut up.”

“Never, baby bro.” He reached out to ruffle Keith’s hair, chuckling lightly as Keith squawked like a fat chicken then proceeded to try and hobble away like one. Keith scowled at him, but big-brother Shiro honestly didn’t give a shit.

He turned back towards the front door, pausing to right the slightly askew porch light cover before heading in. “So when are you talking to him about it?” he asked.

Keith ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t know, never?” Shiro gave him a look. “I’m serious - he doesn’t - he’s not - he’s straight!” Another look, this one paired with a sudden fit of laughter because Lance? Straight?

Ha!

“Takashi,” Keith said, and, at the use of his full name, Shiro’s giggles dissolved like a nonexistent bath bomb in a nonexistent ocean. “I’m serious. I don’t – I can’t…” Keith felt his throat clog up.

Damn, he really should’ve taken his meds.

“Keith,” Shiro sighed out, “it’s not that hard, just talk to him.”

Keith threw his hands up in the air. “Oh excuse me, Mr. One-Girlfriend-and-Counting,” he started, voice dripping sarcasm like a Tasty Freeze ice cream cone in the middle of a Bahamian heatwave, “I beseech you, give me advice as to how the _fuck I’m gonna ask my best friend out_.”

Shiro was silent. “You could have him trip over Blacky,” he mumbled. Blacky looked up from where she’d been resting, head tilted to the side in confusion. “It’s a … good conversation starter.” Keith just stared at him. Shiro shrugged lightly, face tinted pink.

“Worked for me.”

Keith went silent before a Cheshire grin split his face in two, one side evil and the other purely Satanic. “Did your girlfriend trip over Blacky or did Blacky’s trusted, responsible owner guide his dog into her path?”

“... Just talk to Lance,” Shiro grumbled.

* * *

 Oh, Keith talked to Lance alright, but it was less of a confession and more of consultation.

“Holy _shit_ ,” Lance groaned, “my dad’s going to kill me!”

“No they’re not,” Keith said. He reached out to rub Lance’s back, but the boy simply shook his head harder, staring down at the paper in his hands with tears in his eyes.

“Yes. Yes, they are. Well, papa might not, but dad for sure is going to gut me.”

Keith sucked in a breath. Mr. McClain wasn’t going to blow on Lance, Keith was sure of it. Even if he wanted to, Mr. Sanchez would stop him. After all, Lance wasn’t Pidge, he wasn’t expected to get all A’s.

"What am I gonna do?" Lance groaned. Keith rolled his eyes. Lance always worried, it was just how he worked. Over react to this, fret about that. It was hard wired into his system, honestly. "This is gonna bring my grade down so much."

Sure, it got annoying after a bit, with the constant blabbing and complaining and blah blah blah. But Keith had gotten used to it, gotten immune to it, and by now Lance would just flop down next to him and start chatting it up about his terrible life.

"I was already on the border of a C but still!"

Keith sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. But good god there was only so much he could take.

"Lance," Keith grumbled, "look at me."

The said boy finally glanced up, and Keith found himself submerged in the middle of an ocean, blue and green whirling together, mixing like dye in water. This, Keith thought, this is .... definitely how all this started.

Keith cleared his throat. "You're smart," he managed, "you're so smart it's not even funny, okay? This grade does not define you."

Lance sniffled a bit. "No .... but it defines my GPA."

Keith threw his hands up in the air. "You've got to be kidding me."

"It's true!" Lance protested.

"It's degrading!" Keith corrected, "You're so much more than a test, Lance. You don't understand that. You help people. You want to be a teacher, you tutor people on English in the summer, you dunk bullies in the pool during swim gym-"

Lance laughed, and Keith felt something in his chest expand endlessly until he couldn't breathe. "You're important, Lance."

Lance smiled, close lipped and bright eyed. "So are you," he mumbled. Keith stared at him and he stared back and honestly it was uncomfortable and strange but it was _something_ , and Keith had always just been fine with a simple something.

“Uh,” Keith broke eye contact, Lance quickly following suit, “Do you, uh, do you wanna go out?” Lance whipped his head up, mouth dropping open. “Together, maybe with Hunk or Pidge? To, uh, make you feel better?”

Lance stared, eyes wide. “Yes! I mean, yeah, okay, sure, I can – I can ask them. Er, both of them. Them and Hunk. You know what I mean.”

Keith grinned. It wasn’t full on, he’d blown his chance of a real date, after all, but … time with friends could never be a bad thing.

Lance hummed, “We could go to the mall,” he said, nudging Keith in the side, “I hear there’s a new Hot Topic open.”

Keith snorted. “You’re a dufus.”

Lance just laughed.

* * *

 As soon as Keith walked in the door Allura looked up from her work. "You're an idiot," she hissed, grabbing a random stress toy and chucking it at him.

He ducked as the foam pig flew past his head. "What'd I do?" Keith grumbled, grabbing a chair and pulling it up next to her. He glanced at her desk. Papers. She was a gym teacher and she was making her students write _papers_. Keith winced. Brutal.

"Lance was just here," Allura explained.

Keith raised an eyebrow. "And?" he asked.

"And," she mocked, raising her pitch and rolling her nose into her face in an obvious sign of annoyance, "I know that you were gonna take him out on a date this Saturday. That is, until your suggested your friends tag along."

Keith blushed, "It's not like that," he protested. Okay, well, maybe it was, but she really didn’t need to know that. Like really, really didn’t need to know that. Allura with extra blackmail material was scary.

"You," Allura said, swiveling in her chair and poking a finger in his chest, "came to me second semester sophomore year to complain how hot he was."

"Is," Keith corrected, quickly realizing his mistake and covering it up with a cough. “He, uh, well, he still is … kinda hot. Uh, little more than kinda actually.

"One, my point proven," she mumbled, “two, I really didn’t need to know that.”

Keith threw his hands up, slouching back in his chair. "What's so bad about all of us getting together? We do it all the time, we’re friends."

“You and Pidge are friends. You and Hunk are friends. You and I,” she ran a finger in a circle between them, “We’re _friends_. You and Lance?” she snorted. “Two love struck sixth graders too afraid to hold hands.”

“Allura…”

The said woman sighed. "Lance thought it was a date,” she said.  Keith raised an eyebrow, a clear sign of his skepticism, and she simply shrugged. "You're not the only one who comes to me for help. We all know I'm more trustworthy than the social workers."

Keith made a face. “That last part? True. Everything else? Lies.”

“Everything I said? Truth. Your stupid theorem on Lance not recuperating your crush? Lies.”

“That was a terrible clapback,” Keith grinned out.

“That was an awesome clapback, you jerk.” She reached out blindly, whacking at his face. 

Keith wheezed, smacking her hand away. She retracted the limb, gave a not-so-sheepish grin, then went backs to work. He watched as she graded a few more papers, mind deep in focus, before he spoke again. “…Do you really believe he would’ve looked forwards to it?” he murmured, “A date, I mean?”

She nodded, completely serious. “Yes. I believe he would’ve been ecstatic. He came to me to talk about it, after all.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “I still don’t believe you.”

Allura grinned and blew a stray hair out of her face. "Whatever, I'm done trying to set you up." Keith opened his mouth to protest but she shushed him. "Not listening to excuses. Anyways, maybe I'll run into you at the mall, who knows," she winked, "my boyfriend may take me on a sudden shopping trip."

Keith snorted. "Who says he'd listen to you?"

She grabbed a stuffed lion and chucked it at him.

* * *

They went that Saturday, all four of them. Since Shiro had an unexpected date with his girlfriend, Lance had to drive, which was terrifying in itself.

For one, he never really stops fully at stop signs. He also kinda doesn’t slow down when the light turned yellow. Oh. Oh! He also turns corners like a suburban mom in a minivan. Granted, he was taught by a suburban mom with a minivan – cough, Mrs. Holt, cough – but, still, his driving is _pretty_ bad for a teen that doesn’t even text and drive.

It was honestly terrifying to be in the car with Lance. Anyways, besides all of that, Lance was kinda safe. Kinda. Sorta. Not really. Okay, not at _all_. But Keith trusted him … a bit.

Keith was the first to get picked up, with Lance pulling into his driveway five minutes late, blaring Shakira from his speakers. “You’re so lucky Shiro isn’t here,” Keith grinned out, climbing in the passenger seat, “He’d’ve killed you faster than you could’ve said ‘fuckboi.’”

Lance cackled, putting the car in reverse and pulling out. “That with a y or an i?”

“An i, idiot,” Keith said with a roll of his eyes, nearly having to shout over the chorus of Hips Don’t Lie, “Nothing less for you.”

“Wow,” Lance whistled, nearly sideswiping Mrs. Yun’s car, “I feel so – put your seatbelt on, _or so help me_ – honored.” Keith rolled his eyes but clicked the belt in place. Lance nodded as he pulled up to the end of the street. “Now,” he said, “do I take a right or a left to get out of here?”

“Oh my god,” Keith whinnied, burying his head in his hands. “How long have you known me?”

“Shut up and tell me where to turn.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Pot. Kettle.”

“Oh we’re using that analogy now,” Keith groaned out.

“Yes, yes we’re using that analogy now,” Lance laughed, a bit bitter and a bit playful, “Now grab my phone and tell Hunk we’ll be there in five.”

Keith raised an eyebrow but complied, grabbing Lance’s beat up iPhone from where it lied in the cup holders. He managed to open it, but from there on out he was totally and utterly screwed. “Ugh. How do you even use this thing?” he asked, “It’s like a brick. And why’re there so many apps?”

Lance snorted, obviously amused. “You use an android, heathen, so shut up. And that’s not a lot of apps.” He glanced at Keith, who simply just gave him a look of disbelief. “It’s true. You should see Lana’s, she has five pages, no spaces open.”

Keith shuddered.

“It’s the green one, by the way,” Lance continued, “with the message box. Next to Vine.”

Keith scrolled through the endless apps, eventually finding messenger. Hunk’s contact first listed, right above ‘green menace,’ which Keith could only assume was Pidge. Under that was a middle finger emoji. Keith squinted at the screen. “Is that me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lance said, “But, yes, probably.”

Keith sighed and opened Lance and Hunk’s messages. “What’cha wanna say again?”

“Tell him we’ll be there in five.”

 “You sure it’ll only take five minutes?”

“Yes, I’m sure, now shush and let me listen to Shakira, you’re tainting her magic.”

“You mean music?”

“Gesundheit.”

They pulled up to Hunk’s house ten minutes later, much to Lance’s chagrin, having moved from Shakira to Beyoncé and back. Lemonade was blasting when Hunk climbed in, both Keith and Lance signing along.

“You guys suck,” Hunk grumbled as he climbed in, having to duck so he wouldn’t hit his head. “Honestly, you don’t do her justice.”

Lance turned around and blew him a raspberry. “Join the dark side,” he sang, terribly off key, “We have sparkles and cookies.”

“I can’t sing, dude.”

“No problem, mi amigo.”

“Isn’t the offensive?”

“Not I if say it. Now sing.”

Keith, unbeknownst to Lance, turned around as well and smiled at Hunk, mouthing ‘go with it.’ Hunk just took a breath, and starting singing with them.

* * *

All three of them met up with Pidge at the entrance, them having been dropped off by Matt. They clambered out of the truck, dropping nearly a foot before they hit the ground. “Pick me up at three?” It was more of a statement and less of a question, in the usual Pidge manner.

Matt didn’t seem to mind, handing them their bag before they could forget it. Pidge grabbed it. “Gotcha,” Mattt replied, “Have fun, be safe, yada-”

“Yada, yada,” Pidge finished off with a grin, “I get it, now go to work.” Matt rolled his eyes, saluting them and driving off. They watched him go as a collective group before Pidge turned to them, eyebrows hitting their hairline in a telltale sign of mischief.

“So,” they started, “Where we going first?”

Hunk glanced over to Lance, who just shrugged, pointing over to Keith. “Don’t look at me," he said, "I was the one who was invited. Ask him, he’ll know”

Keith scoffed. “Betrayal at its finest.” Lance just laughed, winking over at the other boy. Pidge made a gagging motion, holding their hands over their eyes in attempt to block out the utter stupidity that was the boys in front of them.

Hunk rolled his eyes at them all. “Okay then,” he started, “It’s my choice.”

“Wait, Hunk, no!” Lance protested. “You always choose the cooking stores!”

“There’s nothing wrong with cooking stores.”

“Have you ever been in a Bed, Bath, & Beyond?” Lance inquired. “’Cause that’s the most boring, most annoying, most brain fuzzy-ing store in the world!”

Hunk stared down at Lance, muttering something about how Bed Bah, & Beyond wasn’t a cooking store but just had a cooking section. Lance ignored him, grabbing at his hair, as if he very thought of the shop made his head hurt. “It’s like Judge Judy!” he cried.

Keith gasped. How dare he! Pidge mimicked Keith’s outrage, clutching a hand to their chest as if they’d been shot. “How dare you?” they breathed, “How dare you belittle her name? She is amazing!”

“Yeah,” Lance sneered, “Well he cases give me migraines!” Hunk snorted. “I’m not joking!” Lance protested, “They seriously do! I can’t even be in the same room as that show without wanting to throttle the people on it! How can people be so stupid, I don’t get it.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Keith mumbled.

Lance whirled on him, spinning on the ball of his foot and nearly toppling over when his balance shifted suddenly. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he sputtered.

Keith shrugged, “Exactly what you think it does,” he huffed.

Hunk had to hold Lance back from launching himself at Keith, already used to their playful fights.

They all ended up not going to the mall's Bed, Bath & Beyond store, mainly because Lance was being a total prick about it and kept whining like a baby whenever Hunk tried to drag him past the entrance, but also 'cause Pidge somehow managed to recall all the times they managed to something very, very expensive that was in the store. It was enough to scare Keith and Hunk into literally picking them up and carrying them away from the store.

Pidge dragged them to a Game Stop next, grabbing a Wii controller and promptly whooping Lances ass in Just Dance, much to the poor worker’s horror.

Keith stood in the corner with Hunk, wheezing as both Lance and Pidge managed to top song after song without once breaking up their constant spew of banter. They only stopped when Lance chose a Greece performance and Pidge screamed "don't touch me!" when he tried to dip them.

Hunk managed to get a video of it, making funny comments alongside some little girl, who also managed to record the feat as they both absolutely trashed the two teens.

A little later, Lance tried and failed to shove Keith into hot topic. It involved screaming, pushing, and the general body slamming.

Pidge managed to get the whole debacle on Snapchat, posting it to their story with the caption 'ninja moves.' Hunk, on the other hand, was dying in the corner, having to grab onto a pretzel stand just to stay upright.

Then the manager walked outside, and Hunk collapsed into the ground, howling as the girl quite literally _picked Lance up off the floor_ and shoved him towards Keith with a terse 'just fuckin' leave.' Keith was mortified at the end of it, face red as Pidge laughed and pointed like the little devil they were, waiving their phone around and they documented the whole scene.

Lance just trudged on behind them, mumbling about how Keith didn't have to judo flip him.

"I know you were ogling those MCR shirts," he grumbled.

Keith glowered. "Shut up, Lance."

Lance scoffed. “Not gonna happen, mullet boy” Keith scowled harder. “Eh, actually, that’s kinda crummy, how about we call you senior scene?”

“No, Lance,” Keith huffed, fuming quietly. Pidge looked like they were about the explode from suppressed laughter, but Hunk just looked done. “It’s not scene and it is most certainly not a mullet-”

“Cough, wrong, cough.”

“Did you just _pronounce_ your cough?”

“Yes, Pidge, I did. Now, where was I? Oh, right, LIES!”

“I swear if I see you dab one more time,” Pidge snapped, “One more _fucking_ time, I’m gonna cut off Keith’s mullet-”

“Not a mullet!” the said boy protested.

“And strangle you with it until your head pops clean o-”

Hunk cut them off suddenly with a slew of swears, each and every one ranging from ‘holy shit that’s vulgar’ to Pidge level profanity.

Lance stopped, mouth open wide, his retort still stuck on his tongue. Keith closed the others boys jaw gently, a laugh bubbling past the shock in his chest. He watched in amusement as Lance made a vague motion of cleaning out his ears, turning to Hunk, then Keith with his finger raised, as if to say ‘hold on for a minute.’ Pidge was a little less dramatic, whirling on Hunk, the whites of their eyes seemingly blown wider than their glasses.

"Did you just...?"

Hunk shushed them, holding up a finger as he scanned his phone again. Keith glanced over to Lance, who just simply shrugged in return. Hunk sighed, angry and ragged, akin to a lawn mower running over some kid’s skateboard.

“Okay,” Hunk huffed, dragging his hands over his face in exasperation, one palm still clutching onto his phone. “Okay, I have to leave like now."

Lance raised an eyebrow. "What happened?" He asked. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah it’s just…” he trailed off with another sigh “…Shay broke her arm."

Keith reeled at the news, eyes blown wide with shock. “Shay as in your girlfriend?” he asked. “The one with the over protective brother and the bubble rapped life? _She_ broke her arm?”

Hunk went red, sputtering his protests about his and her relationship, but Keith ignored him. He was right, anyways; Hunk was just like Lance, dumb and slow when it came to crushes.

Lance's face fell, concern washing over his features. "How?"

"I have no idea!" Hunk exclaimed. "She just broke it. Like clean in two how'd she even?! Oh god, Rax has gotta be freaking out."

"Hold on," Pidge said, grabbing her phone and typing some stuff in, "I'll call Matt, he should be done with class by now, he can take us there."

"I'll come too!" Lance piped in, "I can't believe Shay's hurt, I have to comfort her, she's part of the softies club!"

"There's a softies club?" Keith mumbled.

"There's a club for everything, Keith," Lance quipped, "they're like apps, just without the updates."

"Matt will be here in five," Pidge stated, waving their phone around in front of Hunks face to break him from his anxiety filled gaze. He jolted awake, eyes zipping back and forth as his mouth drew downwards. Keith had to hold back a laugh at the sight. Hunk frowning was basically the human version of grumpy cat, but better.

Lance nodded, invincible to the hilarity that was Hunk’s sad face as he turned on his heel and headed straight for the parking lot. He made it five steps before screeching to a halt and marching back over, face red. "What entrance?" he asked, voice quiet with embarrassment.

Pidge snorted. "Oh no. You're not coming with."

Lance’s face contorted in offense. "Why not?!" he screeched, throwing his hands on his hips and bend nearly ninety degrees to look Pidge dead in the eye.

"Because my brother drives a pick up and there's only room for one other person in the back." Lance gave a squawk of protest, but Pidge simply shrugged. "He has a lot of stuff; besides you drove Keith here, how'd he get home?"

Keith held up his hands on mock surrender, "Don't drag me into this. I can walk home."

Pidge looked at him like he was insane. "This is America, Keith, what're you planning on doing? Hitchhiking the highway?"

"There isn't a highway for miles, just state roads."

"It's a metaphor, Keith,” Pidge grumbled. Keith rolled his eyes.

Whatever.

Hunk and Pidge left roughly five minutes later – Pidge actually winked and blew kissy faces as they climbed in Matt’s car - leaving Keith alone with Lance, the two traitors.

Lance stood there with him, watching as they left. “Shay didn’t break her arm,” he decided.

Keith nodded in agreement.

* * *

They ended up deciding to go to the food court, Lance making a beeline for the falafel stand as soon as it came into view, as if the fried goodness was his lifeline. He pushed past a grandma, a child, and even a few pregnant women as he raced towards the counter, nearly giving the cashier a heart attack as he slammed his hands down and snapped out his order.

Keith made sure to tip the poor boy extra as an apology.

Keith got his food next, heading for one of the only places in the food court he actually trusted to actually attempt to follow any kind of health codes set in place: Panda Express. He ended up ordering the cheapest thing in the menu, which, surprisingly, turned out to be a thing of orange chicken.

He eyes to food warily but paid for it anyways, heading off to the table Lance had grabbed for them.

The said boy was chewing down on his food, nearly inhaling the falafel on his plate. Keith watched as he picked up a whole piece, shoving it in his mouth. Lance barely chewed for a second before he was done, going for the next one.

"You're disgusting," Keith huffed, setting his tray down. He grabbed his fork, picking up a piece radioactive-orange meat - was it even meat? - and staring at it for a full five seconds before deciding to actually eat it.

"Doshnt mahter," Lance said around a mouthful of falafel, "ish good." Keith just made a face and went back to his orange chicken, face puckering at the sudden onslaught of flavor. Ugh, this stuff was gonna bring his lifespan down a few good years.

Lance swallowed down his last falafel, shoving his tray away and leaning back. "That was good," he hummed, stretching a bit, his back popping audibly, "How's your chicken?"

"Mine," Keith said, "I paid for it, I got it, I'm eating it."

Lance held up his hands in surrender, "I wasn't gonna ask for any," he admitted, "but okay, fine, be that way."

Keith just ignored him, finishing off his food in silence. He got up when he was done, grabbing his and Lance's stuff and tossing it in the trash. "Is there anywhere you wanna go?" he asked, "Like a certain store or something?"

Lance grinned, clicking his tongue and shooting Keith finger guns, "I'm fine as long I'm with you," he quipped.

Keith flushed, rolled his eyes in attempt to cover the growing splotches of red racing across his cheeks. "Nerd," he huffed. Lance just winked.

They ended up going to Bath & Body works, walking around and sampling pretty much every scent the store offered. Keith felt as if his nostrils were physically injured, simply taking a breath in through his nose hurt at this point, the remnants of all the scents wafting over him.

He groaned in mild pain, rubbing at his temples.

Lance didn't seem to mind, he was too busy freaking out over all the hand sanitizer covers. The boy especially liked the one robo-tech one. "It's mecha, Keith," Lance chastised, "80's mecha made of lions."

Keith squished up his nose, wincing in slight pain. "And they're different colors why?" He asked. "I mean, it's kind of stupid."

" _You're_ kind of stupid."

Keith just rolled his eyes.

Afterwards Lance dragged him off towards few kiosks, ogling random key chains and phone cases as if they were made of gold. Keith had to actually grab him by the collar and yank him away before he bought an entire case.

"Thanks," Lance huffed, "I guess, you're, like, 80 percent of my impulse control or something."

Keith snorted, "So if I wasn't around you'd probably buy, like, fifty million cats?"

Lance grinned, "Nice to see someone appreciates a good meme once in a while," he said. "And it'd be a hundred million cats, not fifty."

"Oh, my mistake," Keith gasped, "I forgot how much you needed me to actually function."

Lance scoffed. "Lies."

"Face it," Keith said, "without me you'd probably kiss the closest idiot."

"Oh really?"

"Really?"

Lance's lips parted in a grin, teeth bared impossibly wide. "I'll take that dare," he said, bending down.

"Wha - Lance?!" Keith sputtered.

Lance pressed his face closer, lips puckered in a kissy face. Keith's heart slammed into his ribs, mind racing as he somehow forced himself to move his arms and shove Lance away, hard. Keith stared at him, facing bursting into flames, and, for once, he wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or rage. He grit his teeth, feeling a haze wash over his head.

“You’re an idiot,” he growled, “You – you’re a fucking idiot.” He turned around suddenly, heading back towards the nearest entrance. He was done, he was totally and utterly done.

"Keith, wait," Lance called, following after him. "I'm sorry, it was a joke, I know you don't feel that way."

Keith kept going.

“Come on, dude, let’s just talk.”

“No,” Keith seethed, more to himself than Lance.

He didn't feel like talking it out, actually, he didn’t even feel like talking at all, not when his throat was closing up on itself and his heart was racing and he felt his mind fog over in that stupid, stupid sign he’d gotten to know so well. He just wanted to be alone, goddamnit! Alone and away from Lance and from drama and from stupid, _stupid_ crushes that squeezed his heart until it burst out of his chest all bloody and gooey and landed in a pile of shit on the floor.

Keith screeched to a stop, not even bothering to find a quieter place for them to talk it out.

 _'Think about your actions,'_ part of his mind said _._

 _'Screw your actions,'_ the other half replied.

He needed to think; he needed to figure out what was going on, how to finally make all of this stop because it was starting to hurt now, being around Lance and his flirty-ness. It was starting to physically hurt, like a dull throb in his chest as if his heart could suddenly get its own version of migraines.

He whirled around, reaching out and grabbing a still-moving Lance by the arm before tugging him closer. And in that moment, that one split second, his mind screeched to a halt, stilling completely for the first time in his life. And it was bliss. But his body was still moving, momentum put in place, designated landing already set like stone.

His lips met Lance's. Not in his bedroom, not in a movie theater or watching a sunset, no, it was in the middle of the local, tri-city mall, with a few hundred spectators, that Keith Kogane kissed Lance McClain-Sanchez.

He held Lance close, pressing their mouths together in that innocent peck for a few more seconds before letting go.

 _'Say something romantic,'_ Keith thought, _'profess your love, tell him about your crush.'_

Keith simply sucked in a much-needed breath, lungs already feeling plenty full with Lance's air. "Try calling that a joke," Keith whispered. Lances eyes widened in recognition as Keith drew back, letting Lances arm go as he stepped away. "’Cause I know you don't feel that way."

He whirled around, ready to leave Lance there on the spit. Unfortunately, the said boy had other ideas. “Aw hell no!” he snapped, grabbing Keith’s arm and dragging him away. Keith gaped for a few seconds, body going limp as Lance pulled him along like a ragdoll.

It was only when he was yanked into a stereotypical storefront that he actually came to, tearing his arm out of Lance’s grip. “What the hell?” he growled.

“I’m not doing this,” Lance sneered, shoving a finger into Keith’s chest, “I’m not doing this telenovela, drama packed shit. Got it? You’re not kissing me a running off. You don’t just do that! This isn’t a fucking fanfic.”

Keith only stared. “…Well, you _do_ have fanfiction blue eyes,” he mumbled.

Lance blinked. “What?”

“What?” Keith mimicked, looking around like he hadn’t just blurted out the most embarrassing thing in his life.

Lance shook his head in disbelief. “You know what,” he huffed, holding his palms out, as if he could push Keith’s stupidity away with his bare hands, “I don’t care. Just … just talk with me, okay? Whatever kinda of … relationship we have is healthy enough for us to talk about this.”

“You sure about that?” Keith asked. Because he sure wasn’t. Keith’d known Lance since the sixth grade, he’d survived middle school with him, he’d cried with him and laughed with him and … and kissed him, apparently.

But if their relationship was anything, then it had to be the friendzone, at best. Keith would admit to his stupid little crush, because it was sure pretty obvious, according to basically everyone, but that didn’t mean whatever they had was healthy.

After all, Keith was infatuated with Lance.

He was kind, he was boisterous, he was beautiful, a walking, talking meme that was never humble when humility was needed most. Keith looked at Lance as if he were the sun, warm, blinding, and all-encompassing. This was far, far from a crush. No. _No_ , this?

This was pure _pining_.

But Lance? Lance was an idiot. He didn’t notice Keith, not in the way Keith wanted. That or he just didn’t care.

But Keith didn’t want to even think of that.

It was bad enough McDufus would blatantly check out other people in front of Keith. it was bad enough he’d sigh at rom-coms and turn to Keith, wondering aloud he he’d ever find someone who’d look at him that way. It was fucking bad enough that he’d look Keith in the eye and say things like “with my luck, they’re right in front of me” then laugh and turn away.

Keith hated him and loved him and wanted him all in the same breath. And it was perfectly infuriating. Lance was perfectly, wonderfully, infuriating. He was also starting to look a little more than pissed off at the boy he’d locked lips with minutes ago. “Keith,” he tried, voice wavering between fear and ferocity.

Said boy sighed, dragging his hands over his face. God, why’d he have to be so stupid? “Look, we obviously both know I like you,” Keith ground out, “Can’t we just, I dunno, ignore it?”

“Um, no,” Lance said, voice dripping gallons of sarcasm, “You like me – kinda –, you ask me out on a date – kinda –, you kiss me – that one I have actual proof for –, and then you try and run away? I’m not dealing with that, not today, not tomorrow, not ev-”

“Uh, sir?” Keith swiveled to the side, rage sparking in his chest as a timid looking worker shuffled forwards. “I, um sorry to interrupt-”

“You’re not interrupting,” Lance grumbled, “There’s nothing to interrupt,”

“I’m sure,” the worker mumbled, “I have to ask you to leave, though.”

Lance threw him arms up. “Fine,” he snapped, “This place has crappy lighting, anyways.” Keith snorted. It was a freakin’ Hollister, what did he expect? “Come on, mullet, we’re leaving to find another place to talk.”

Lance grabbed Keith’s hand, and before Keith could ask him what the literal fuck he was doing, Lance was pulling Keith beside him and into the hallways of the mall.

“Will you stop that!” Keith barked, tugging his arm out of Lance’s grip. “Seriously, it’s annoying.”

“I’d stop if you would follow me,” Lance retorted, moving to grab hold of Keith’s wrist again, but the boy just snacked his hand away. Lance stopped, looking Keith dead in the eye, “Did you just hit me?” he asked, voice shrill with disbelief.

“I dunno,” Keith hissed, “Did you just kiss me?”

“You kissed me!” Lance snapped, as if that made any difference, because Lance has returned it, they’d both taken part, they’d both screwed their friendship up, it was both of their faults.

Keith started to bark out his reply, the words on the edge of his tongue, ready to slip out with a simple hiss. Then the world decided to shove them back in and drown them out with the weight of stupid, stupid irony.

“Lance? Keith?” They whirled at the sound of their voices, and Keith felt his mind crumble.

Allura stared him dead in the eye, irises filled to the brim with concern. “Is everything alright?” Keith simply stared, ignoring her words as his vision zoomed in on her arm, following the muscles down to her hand, and, in turn, what it was holding onto.

“Shiro?”

* * *

“Isn’t this, like, a breach of your contract or something? Hanging out with students outside of school or whatever?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m simply having a meal with my boyfriend’s family. There is nothing wrong with such a thing.”

“And _I’m_ considered family?”

“Shut it, Lance.”

Keith groaned, slamming his head down onto his kitchen table repeatedly. Make. It. Stop.

Allura simply smiled, batting her lashes and taking another sip from the coffee Shiro had made for her. The said man stood off to the side, leaning against the counter and staring off into space.

Keith wasn’t faring much better, eyes locking on the wood of the table. The dude Allura always talked about was Shiro. The hot veteran she always ranted on about, the one she’d been crushing on hardcore for over a semester, was _Shiro_. The advice he’d given her, the scoffs and the teasing and the kissy faces he made whenever she blushed, they were all because of Shiro, for Shiro. For his _brother_.

He played a part in getting his brother together with one of his best friends.

“Ohmygod,” Keith groaned into the wood, picking up his head again just to hit it down on the table and spew unintelligible blabber.

Lance snorted, “How could I miss this?” he huffed, “How? I mean, she described him for us, in detail, including the ‘hunky muscles’ and ‘dreamy eyes I could just get lost in’ and ‘drool worthy jawline, oh my god, have you even seen something as perfect as’-”

Allura kicked him hard in the shin, extracting a yelp as Lance yanked his leg closer to his body, trying to blow on the forming bruise. “I’d advise you to stop now,” she warned, eyes dark.

Shiro smiled, “What was that about my jawline?” he asked, “Something about it being drool worthy?”

“Don’t forget the hunky muscles,” Keith added.

Allura went red, whipping around to face him, she raised a hand, ready to lecture – cough, threaten, cough – him.

Keith shrugged, “What?” he said, “It’s the truth.”

She glowered. Shiro grinned even harder, obviously out to embarrass her as he opened his mouth again. Keith beat him to it, “Oh, don’t you forget about what I’ve heard from you.”

Shiro froze, eyes wide. “Keith,” he warned, “Don’t you dare.”

“Hmm, what’d you say again, something about majestic space goddess-”

Shiro practically leapt across the table, grabbing Keith in a headlock and immediately digging his fist into the top of his brother’s head. Keith gave a shout of surprise, grappling against Shiro’s arms. “If you don’t let go of me now, I swear, I’ll tell her about Anna and the Pringles can!” Keith shouted.

“Say one more word and I’ll spill about all the times you pined over Lance.”

The said boy shot up straight, suddenly alert. “What?”

“What?” Keith squeaked.

“What?” Shiro mimicked.

Allura buried her head in her hands, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Idiots, all of you, I swear.”

 “He’s lying,” Keith huffed, still trying to pry his head out from between Shiro’s massive biceps. “He lies. I – he – ack! – lying!”

Lance just rubbed at his face, as if trying to wake himself up. “You know what,” he grumbled, “I’m just gonna use the bathroom. You guys have doing whatever the hell this is.”

“Language!” Allura chastised, turning to smack Lance upside the head. Keith watched in amused as Shiro mocked his girlfriend behind her back, silently mimicking her face as he mouthed ‘language.’ Keith snorted.

“You know where it is,” Shiro called.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance huffed, “Across from the stairs. Oh, and Allura, don’t forget to tell him about those pictures you took during the beach trip.”

“What?” Shiro squeaked, whipping around the look at Allura, who started to shrink into her body, face akin to a blazing sun.

Keith watched out of the corner of his eye as Lance swerved left, leading for the stairs instead of the bathroom. He caught onto Keith’s stare, holding eye contact for a bit, then turned, heading up the steps with barely a sound.

Keith swallowed, going limp and tapping Shiro’s at Shiro’s arm. “Uncle,” he grumbled begrudgingly.

Shiro let go and Keith hacked a bit, throwing a half-hearted punch at Shiro’s shoulder. He dodged easily and Keith just blew him a raspberry instead. “I’m going to my room,” he grumbled, “You two idiots just stay here and don’t do anything.”

“Whatever,” Shiro huffed. Keith ignored him, trudging for the stairs. Allura waved as he passed, sending him a wink as he went on his way.

As he’d expected, Lance was in his room, sitting cross legged on the floor near his nightstand, looking through Keith’s old pairs of glasses. He held one up to the light, squinting at the black, oversized frames he’d worn back in sophomore year.

“You know,” he hummed, “It really is a shame that you switched to contacts.”

“A shame to who?” Keith scoffed, heading for his bed and flopping down on it.

Lance shrugged, putting the glasses back in the case and shutting the drawer. “To anyone interested in guys, really.” Keith sent him a pointed look and Lance threw up his hands in surrender, “What, I’m trying to flirt.”

Keith rolled his eyes, “You could be a bit more subtle about it,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, well every other time I tried it just flew over your head,” Lance huffed, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall. He tilted his head back, taking in the stars on Keith’s ceiling.

A few had stopped glowing back in freshman year, so Keith, Lance, and Hunk had all cut open random glow sticks, glopping their contents over the dulled stars. It worked, kind of, except for the fact that there was a permanent, glowing message that stated ‘Lance was here ;)’ between the Big and Little Dippers.

“I can’t believe we both liked each other for this long,” Lance mumbled, eyes darting from star to star, “I just - I don’t get it.”

“We were stupid,” Keith said, “We are stupid, actually. I mean, Allura knew, Pidge knew.”

Lance smiled. “Hunk knew.”

“Shiro knew,” Keith added.

Lance snorted, “Shiro knows everything.”

Keith hummed in agreement. Shiro did know everything. Keith was pretty sure he was omnipotent or something, honestly. “I started liking you freshman year, I think, around winter break, maybe? At that point I thought you were straight.” Keith furrowed his eyebrows, “Weren’t you dating Natasha Nickles?”

Lance shuddered, “Don’t remind me. Girl’s crazy.”

“Didn’t she burn down Tom Randel’s house just because he brought Lindsay Hammle over?”

“Oh god, I forgot about that!” Lance laughed, “Gosh, I’m so glad she dumped me, that was brutal.” He chuckled, “I used to joke that she was the one that turned me bi. I still don’t get how you didn’t understand that.”

Keith shrugged, “I guess I’m pretty dense. I mean, I liked you, I really did, but I never really said anything, I just kind of stood in the corner drooling over you when you weren’t looking.”

“And when I was you were insulting me?” Lance tried.

“Bingo.”

“Gosh, you’re worse than me,” lance admitted, “I think my crush started around the beginning of eighth grade, but I guess I didn’t really figure but it was actually a crush until the summer before high school. I started flirting with you then, but you always just brushed it off or threw salt or something.”

He sighed, “Honestly, you really don’t get flirting, do you?”

Keith rolled his eyes, “I did. I just thought you were joking.”

“I called you hot,” Lance said, “On multiple occasions.”

“Nope,” Keith smiled out, “Don’t remember. Didn’t happen.”

Lance groaned “That was one time, Keith, come on.”

“I’m never letting you live it down,” he sang, getting up off his bed and heading over towards Lance. The said boy pushed off the wall, meeting him halfway and pulling him into a hug.

“Really?” Keith asked.

Lance grinned “If you’re never letting me live it down, then I’m never letting go.”

Keith snorted, but tightened his grip on Lance anyways, tugging him down and meeting him halfway in a kiss far overdue.

Lance did something, Keith couldn't really process what, but then he was winding his arms around Keith's waist and Keith was sliding one hand into Lance's hair and trailing the other down his neck and it was perfect and amazing and Keith wanted this forever and ever and ever. He wanted Lance and he wanted this day and he wanted this feeling and he wanted it all just to stay still and never move.

Lance pulled back, his lips red and his eyes so, so blue, and before he could even say anything Keith was pulling him back down with a whisper of 'again' and they were kissing once more.

Over and over and over until each innocent peck, each slot of their mouths, hurt. Until Keith was sure his lips were bruised and black. Until their breath was so sharp and so soft that it wasn't any different from the November breeze.

But he didn't care. He loved this.

They parted to breathe and before Keith could dive back in Lance pulled back. Keith felt his heart practically crack. "Wha-"

"Easy," Lance murmured, voice hoarse.

Keith swallowed around empty air and nodded, glancing up Lance. He could still feel Lance’s warmth, sill taste his lips, still hear his own blood rushing past his own ears - an aftereffect that wouldn't be going away any time soon, he presumed.

This wasn’t an anger fueled kiss in the middle of a crowded mass. This wasn’t frustrating or confusing. It wasn’t karma or petty little ways of getting revenge. This was something ... different. Something new. Something deeper and more profound than Keith had ever expected from his tiny, shriveled little heart.

It was kind of nice, actually.

He opened his mouth, letting a little breath slip out as he sighed, leaning up towards Lance once again. The taller boy complied, leaning down the slightest to close the gap.

"I'm sorry about the mall," Keith muttered as he pulled away. "I was ..." panicking, flipping the fuck out, throwing enough salt to give a health fanatic a heart attack "...frustrated," Keith finished. Lance grinned, teeth bared in that smartass way of his, and Keith leaned in again to quickly shut him up.

"And no," he clarified as they broke apart, "the frustration was not sexual."

Lance just smiled. Not even trying to deny it. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Hundred percent."

"Hm?" Lance hummed, tugging Keith closer and kissing circles around his mouth. Keith giggled, trying to shove Lance away, but the boy just kept it up, adding a few, overexaggerated kissy noises in with it. "You really sure?" he prodded around laughs.

Keith paused, wiggly a hand free from between them and tapping at his chin. "...eighty percent?" he tried, dodging a halfhearted punch from Lance. “Hey, don’t damage the goods.”

Lance made a face, like he’d swallowed a whole bag of warheads in an instant. “Never say that again, he said, nearly gagging. “Ever.”

“What? Scared I’ll get flirty?” Keith fluttered his lashes with a laugh. Lance grabbed the boy’s face, shoving him away. Keith just laughed harder. Lance sighed playfully, reaching down suddenly and grabbing Keith around the knees.

The said boy screamed as Lance tried, and failed, to lift him up, and the two of them collectively tipped over. Keith slammed his arm into the wall, bracing them both mid-air. Lance blinked his eyes open, smiling sheepishly down at Keith.

He glared halfheartedly, shoving the taller boy off him. “What even was that?” he asked, voice sharp.

“I was trying to be cute!” Lance protested, jutting his lower lip out in a pout Keith kind of found endearing. “Guys pick up their girlfriends all the time, it’s supposed to be a cute thing, me picking you up.”

“Yeah, well you failed.”

“You know what?” Lance huffed, “I wanna see you try and – holy shit!” He broke off mid-sentence, a stream of profanities flying from his tongue as Keith grabbed him and picked him up like an oversized pillow. Lance stared at him, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

“Oh. Okay, wow you can do that.”

Keith rolled his eyes, arms straining to hold Lance. He was definitely heavier than Keith, and that wasn’t exactly doing much for him here. Luckily, Lance decided to try and end the whole debacle by opening his stupid mouth.

“You know,” he rasped, “This is kinda hot.”

Keith let go.

Lance fell to the floor with a thud.

Keith watched in amusement as Lance screwed his nose up, pushing off the carpet. Keith snorted, pointing down at the boy as he fell into a tiny, dramaticized fit of hysterics. Lance scowled, swiping at Keith’s feet, but he just danced around the flailing arms.

Lance finally gave up, throwing his entire body up off the ground like a deranged seal and grabbing Keith by the knees. The said boy gave an indignant scream as he was yanked the floor with a loud bang. Lance scrambled on top of Keith’s back, sitting between his shoulder blades like it was his throne.

“I win,” he grinned.

“Win what?” Keith grumbled, blowing a strand of hair out of his face.

Lance opened his mouth, but Shiro’s screaming cut him off. “That is the second thud I’ve heard in five minutes!” he shouted, “There better now be anything PG-13 going on up there!!”

“Sue protection!” Allura shouted.

Keith went red; Lance groaned. “God, what’s with adults these days?!”

* * *

Keith shuffled out the front door, calling to Shiro that he was leaving as he locked up, nearly tripping over a random gnome on the front porch. Well that hadn’t been there the day before. He nudged it to the side, whipping out his phone and sending a quick text to Lance.

_6:30 good morning_

Unsurprisingly, Lance replied within seconds.

**6:31 ownsusbsbsgwioa**

_6:31 ... really_

**6:31 naisnsjshhs!! (rlly)**

_6:32 youre too dramatic_

**6:33 thx boo <3**

6:33 oh so now you can talk?

**6:33 jsisnsishahjs (no)**

_6:35 you know what never mind im pretty sure thats not even considered talking_

**6:35 sisbysuaispwndbdj (is too)**

_6:37 is not. not when you cant actually pronounce any of that_

_6:40 .... lance_

**6:42 Attached file: audio clip**

**6:42 dinejwloshdhsywioabh**

Keith played it, nearly bursting his eardrums as utter shit spewed from his headphones and into his ears.

He groaned as he turned the corner just as the bus pulled up, slowing down a bit when he noticed a freshman spirting from down the street. The driver kept to door open, seeing as Keith was right there. The freshie caught up, coming into view, and Keith went back to his normal pace, boarding the bus and sending a quick message.

_6:43.... I dont know if i should be impressed or not_

**6:43 you shud b inprssd**

Keith smiled down at the phone in his hands, a giddy feeling filling him from head to toe at he read over his and Lances conversation. He grinned even harder, dunking has bag next to him as he took his seat in the yellow car of hell. This was nice, really, really nice. Dating Lance was really, really nice. It made him feel good, like something had lifted off his chest and left him ten tons lighter.

The driver honked the horn, the car jerking forward suddenly, shooting Keith face dirt into the fake leather of the seat in front of him.

He groaned.

The bus was still shit, though.

**Author's Note:**

> This was pretty much the most fun I've had writing something in a while. I loved making this meme as fanfic-y as possible. Honestly though, the only reason these 32 pages of pure fun existed was because voltron-ss made this secret santa and because Robin (follow them as luuxeo on tumblr!) applied, to thank you so, so much.  
> (the title is from Roman Holiday by Halsey)


End file.
